


Ten Silk Scarves

by anoncanon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:16:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoncanon/pseuds/anoncanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In answer to this prompt from the Dragon Age Kink Meme</p>
<p>"*During Wicked Eyes And Wicked Hearts if you talk to Dorian at the Winter Palace about saving you a dance, Dorian will respond with "find me 10 silk scarves and I'll show you a dance that will shock you"*</p>
<p>After they return to Skyhold, the Inquisitor finds 10 silk scarves for Dorian. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Silk Scarves

The Inquisitor was used to a lot of situations, yet none so far had felt as weird as this one.

He was in a very fancy, very expensive and very select shop in the markets of Val Royeaux. He had entered furtively, only to be greeted by life-size mannequins showing off the stores unique selection of silk undergarments.

A clerk came to him, “Can I help you, Monsieur?”

“I would like silk scarves, please,” the Inquisitor replied. “Ten of them.”

“ _Ten_ scarves you say?,” the clerk said, a knowing look in his eyes. “If you would please follow me, sir…”

The clerk motioned to a display at the far end of the store and the Inquisitor followed, trying not to read too much into the clerk’s smile.

\--

 

The Inquisitor was unpacking the last satchel from his most recent venture when a light knock sounded at the door.

The door clicked open. “It’s me, can I come up?”

“Sure,” the Inquisitor replied, “I’m almost done unpacking.”

Dorian climbed up the stairs and walked in the room just as the Inquisitor finished pushing the empty satchel under the bed with his foot. The Tevinter closed the distance between them but was suddenly distracted as he spotted a box on the bed.

“Is that from _Renaud’s_?”, he asked. It was a white box with a very fancy golden “R” on it, tied close with a large honey-colored silk ribbon. The Inquisitor nodded.

Dorian chuckled, “Is it for _me_?”

“Could be,” the other man replied, “Open it.”

Dorian pulled the bow loose and lifted the box’s cover to reveal a tiny sea of blood-colored silk. He carefully took an edge of fabric between his fingers and lifted it, unfolding a scarf.

“Let me guess, ten silk scarves..?” he asked.

The Inquisitor shrugged. “Not the kind of statement that is easy to forget, I’m afraid. If you didn’t want me to know, you shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he said shamelessly, a grin on his face.

“You got me _ten_ silk scarves from _Renaud’s_ , of all places, on the hopes that I wasn’t talking out of my ass when I said that? How far in the red are the Inquisition’s books now?” Dorian asked, before returning his attention to the scarf. “Maker’s breath, that silk is sumptuous…”

He meticulously put the scarf back in the box before reaching out to his lover and kissing him.

“Good news, I can perform the dance; I wasn’t talking nonsense when I first mentioned it. Bad news, it’s hard to dance without music…” Dorian paused, “Do you think the minstrel in the tavern... Maryden? Do you think she’d… mind?”

“I can’t say for her but I know _I_ would mind if she was there. I can play the music,” the Inquisitor replied. He walked to the oud on display next to his desk, picked it up and started strumming the chords. He adjusted the instrument, then went on to play one of the songs Dorian had heard Maryden play many times in the tavern.

“I never learned to read music and I can’t really sing,” he said as he picked the last few notes, “but I’m pretty sure I can improvise something decent if you tell me what you want. And I can play the oud without needing to look at it...”

“That… might actually work,” Dorian mused. “If you think you can manage to keep yourself together until the dance is through. I have doubts, _somehow_ , but I’m willing to try…”

“Time and place?” the other man asked.

“Here, this evening?” Dorian replied with a grin. He picked up the box with the scarves. “I need a few supplies from my quarters and some time to prepare… Oh, and about the music!”

Dorian quickly briefed the Inquisitor about the accompaniment and they parted, Dorian’s strides so fast some might have said he was running.

\--

 

When Dorian came back to the room, he knocked softly and let himself in. He locked the door and walked up the stairs. He had put on a long coat and a hood, thankful for the cover of night and the fact that most people were either retired in their quarters or gone to eat at this hour.

“Hey, welcome back.” The Inquisitor was seated at his desk, mostly in the dark. There was a plate of untouched food in front of him. He got up and went around the desk.

“How do we… set this up? What do you need?” he asked.

Dorian scanned the room. “We don’t need much, I think. You can move your chair there,” he gestured to a place not so far from the desk, “And I’ll have enough room here.” He took off his boots, revealing bare feet, and walked to the spot he had just pointed. “With the carpet and the window, this is going to be just fine.” The bed was far enough on his right that he wouldn’t have to worry about it during the dance.  

“I’m ready if you are?” Dorian asked. The Inquisitor simply nodded and picked up his oud.

“Please seat, esteemed patron, while I finish my preparations,” Dorian said with a small bow and a big smile.

He walked soundlessly to the couch on the other side of the room and unbuckled his coat’s belt and trappings. He carefully lowered the hood, then took the coat off. He made some final adjustments to his outfit before walking back to his dancing spot, trailing billows of red silk.

He saw the way the Inquisitor was staring at him and couldn’t help but grin. The ten silk scarves composed the entirety of his outfit. One was used as a belt, tied over a hip. The second scarf’s purpose was to provide a bit of decency, going down from where it was folded into the belt and covering his private parts, then between his legs and up between his buttcheeks, before going under the belt again. A scarf was tied to each wrist, the other end tucked into the belt on each side. The remaining six scarves were inserted in the belt, forming a cover that was open to one side, the side where the belt was tied.

“Music, please,” he said in a low voice.

The Inquisitor cleared his throat and started picking and strumming the chords, creating a downtempo rhythm. Dorian started moving, slowly. This first part of the dance was about languid motions, the slow flow of them meant to highly the beauty of the dancer’s body. He seamlessly picked up two scarves from the six in the belt, trailing them in his movements. He kept his eyes downcast, this segment of the dance forbidding eye contact with the patrons.

The second part of the dance starts when the dancer picks up another two scarves from the ones at his belt. The previous two scarves are not dropped or forgotten, for this particular dance requires from its adepts to be able to use magic to keep the scarves afloat, as if they were suspended in water.

When Dorian picked up the third and fourth scarves, the Inquisitor noticed his cue and accelerated the rhythm of the music. Dorian’s movements became faster, focusing more on the contrast between percussive and sinuous motions. The four scarves followed, going from sharp streams of red silk to smooth billows. He also started throwing furtive looks to his patron, still avoiding full eye contact.

As Dorian removed the last two scarves from his belt, both music and dance changed again. The music became almost impossibly rhythmic, but the dancer’s movements less so. As the dancer moves through the six scarves in the air, less of his body is visible. The motions become more erratic and, this time, the dancer locks eyes with his patron.

The first time Dorian locked eyes with the Inquisitor, the musician’s hand tripped in the chords. The Tevinter had taken the time to line his eyes with smoky kohl, making them really stand out. He also knew how to _look_ at someone with the intent of utterly destroying them.

The dance came to a close as Dorian stood still, breathing hard, and all six scarves fell to the floor as if lifeless. The music stopped abruptly. Dorian looked up when he heard the oud being unceremoniously put down. He saw the Inquisitor stride toward him with such an intent expression that it came as no surprise when the other man almost slammed into him, his momentum carrying them over a few steps.

The Inquisitor’s mouth found Dorian’s and he kissed him, unyielding and desperate. Dorian’s arms went around the other man’s waist, his hands in the small of the back. He held him in place as he pushed his hips into the Inquisitor’s, the latter’s erection pressing against Dorian’s lower abdomen.

The Inquisitor groaned into the kiss. He pushed his body into Dorian’s, leading him toward the bed. The mage’s knees buckled as he hit the mattress’ edge. He dropped to the bed, edging backward so he was properly laying on it and put on his best smug expression.

The Inquisitor stared at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t look so smug, that scarf leaves nothing to the imagination…” He quickly undressed and climbed on the bed.

Their bodies collided, Dorian’s being pressed down. As he went to move his hands to his lover’s backside, he got caught up in the scarves still tied to his wrists.

“Hold on,” he said, between kisses.

“Why don’t you let me take care of that,” the Inquisitor offered. He freed the first scarf from the belt and shifted himself closer to the bedposts, where he tied the scarf’s end. He returned to do the same with the other scarf, tying it to the other bedpost.

Dorian greeted him with a falsely offended expression and the other man kissed him, long and hard. The Inquisitor’s marked hand trailed down Dorian’s torso until it reached the silk, ghosting fingers along the hard length protruding through it. Dorian impulsively tugged on his restraints but they held fast.

The Inquisitor moved, lowering himself on the bed, until his mouth was level with Dorian’s navel. He kissed down from there, very slowly, while his hand was unfastening the scarf belt. He promptly removed both the belt and the groin scarf, tossing them off the bed, then returned his mouth to Dorian’s skin. He licked from the root to the tip of the mage’s cock, his tongue flat and pressing, before engulfing him in one swift motion.

Dorian moaned, struggling against the scarves again. The Inquisitor released him with a pop and pulled himself level with Dorian’s face. He kissed him, passionately, grinding against the mage’s hips. “I want you so much,” he said, his voice husky.

“Mmmh--” was all Dorian could manage as the other man kissed him again. The Inquisitor reached behind the headboard, bringing back a small jar. He then moved to settle between Dorian’s legs, sitting back on his heels. He took some of the slick substance from the jar with a finger, then set the jar aside to rub the substance on the tip of his erection.

Dorian’s legs were already bent as the Inquisitor positioned himself between them. He grabbed Dorian’s ankles and placed them on his shoulders before leaning forward, resting his weight on one of his hands. With his other hand, he guided his cock and entered Dorian in one slow, smooth move.

Dorian’s head shot backwards, eyes closed. He reflexively pulled at the scarves. The Inquisitor began thrusting, creating a good rhythm. With each stroke hitting his prostate, Dorian felt his pleasure build up. It reached a point where Dorian really regretted being tied to the bed, unable to use his hands. He tugged harder on the scarves, hoping one of the knots would give in.

He looked at his Inquisitor. The other man had bitten his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. His eyes were half closed, trained on Dorian’s body. With the way concentration was etched on his features, Dorian could tell his lover was barely keeping it together.

“ _Amatus_ ,” he asked quietly, “can you, _ah_ ...can you ...untie--” He gestured to one of his hands. The Inquisitor’s eyes locked to his, then looked at the scarf tied on Dorian’s right wrist. He shifted, freeing a hand, and reached to the knot’s loose end. He pulled at it and, thankfully, the knot unraveled as Dorian tugged on the scarf again.

Dorian reached to the Inquisitor’s head with his freed hand, bringing him close for a kiss. He let him go and as the other man resumed his position, he trailed his hand on his own body until he got to his erection. He started stroking himself, chasing after his release.

It didn’t take long. “I-- I am so close-- ” Dorian said, voice tense. The Inquisitor groaned and, on cue, started moving faster. Dorian’s hand pumped faster too; he cried out as he came, a few seconds after the other man had spilled inside him.

They stayed like that for a pause, breathing hard and shuddering. The Inquisitor pulled out and collapsed next to Dorian. He stretched an arm over and untied Dorian’s other wrist, then went behind the headboard again, bringing back a clean rag.

“Thank you,” Dorian whispered, using the cloth to clean the mess on his stomach and hand. He threw it on the floor when he was done. Now that they were quite spent, Dorian shivered, the chill in the room unwelcome. In contrast, the Inquisitor’s body was burning hot and Dorian snuggled closer.

“Let’s get you under the covers, beautiful hothouse orchid that you are,” the Inquisitor said with a smile. Dorian searched for a retort but came up with nothing, his wits not completely recovered yet. They moved around until they were both under the heavy covers, lying on their sides, Dorian’s back pressed against the Inquisitor’s torso, with one of the latter’s arms over Dorian’s waist. The Inquisitor kissed Dorian’s neck.

“That’s how the dance usually ends,” Dorian said quietly.

“What, with the dancer tied to bedposts and properly... fucked, for lack of a better word?” the Inquisitor asked.

“The restraining part is optional,” the mage replied, “but sex almost always is the _grande finale_ , as they say in Orlais.”

“Mmh,” the Inquisitor said. “I didn’t imagine you could dance like that…”

“It’s much easier than it looks,” Dorian said, bragging just a little bit. “It doesn’t require a lot of skills, just a beautiful body and a bit of magic.”

The Inquisitor chuckled. “Regardless of that then, thank you; I truly enjoyed it,” he whispered before burying his face in Dorian’s hair.

“Me too, _Amatus_ , me too…” Dorian replied, smiling.

The arm around his waist tightened slightly, inching their bodies closer. Dorian shifted a bit, making himself comfortable. Sleep soon claimed them both.

**Author's Note:**

> **Full prompt:  
> "*During Wicked Eyes And Wicked Hearts if you talk to Dorian at the Winter Palace about saving you a dance, Dorian will respond with "find me 10 silk scarves and I'll show you a dance that will shock you"*  
> After they return to Skyhold, the Inquisitor finds 10 silk scarves for Dorian. 
> 
> \+ Bonus if Dorian is wearing the boots from the Winter Palace formal outfit and nothing else.  
> ++ Bonus if Dorian ends up tied to the Inquisitor's bed with the aforementioned scarves.  
> Strong preference for M!Trevelyan. But if any potential A!A want to fill with a different Inquisitor or keep it vague that's completely cool with me ;D"
> 
> \-- Oud music : https://play.spotify.com/album/6ccsUgs16DGDaZ77UNKYOg --
> 
> **Dorian original dialogue about the dance refers to shocking the Orlesians more than the Inquisitor... I don't think a lot would shock the Inquisitor, anyway XD


End file.
